Snickerdoodle
by ilovetvalot
Summary: A visit from his talented tech always brightens his day. Hotch/Garcia


_Author's Note: We're excited to announce our Round 3 of our Fanfic Challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The __**Dealer's Choice August Challenge**__ is a great way to stretch your writing muscles! Please see the forum for further details. We'd love to have you! And please visit the forum to read our latest interview with the simply amazing __**JWynn**__! And, please remember our fellow author,__** Angel N Darkness**__, who was in a serious car accident on Sunday. Visit the discussion thread to leave your best wishes. Updates on her condition will be posted there as we receive them. We've also added two new discussion threads, __**"Let's Play, "Name**__**Your Beta""**__ for those of you that want to publicly recognize and recommend your beta and __**"Chit Chat with the Authors"**__ for those that have questions related to writing and Criminal Minds fanfiction. Please drop by and check it out. And finally, for those of you that wish to see a different side of talented actress __**Kirsten Vangsness**__, please visit __**www. vampiremob. com**__ (delete the spaces) to see her portray the anti-Garcia on a new webisode series_

**Snickerdoodle**

Lifting his head as his eternally perky technical analyst bustled through his office door, he winced as she kicked his office door closed with her characteristic aplomb.

"Hey, Boss Man," she chirped with a wide grin as she marched toward his desk, one hand around a dark blue FBI coffee mug and the other around a plastic container. "Break time!" she announced, sliding the mug of coffee onto the coaster on his desk and the ice blue Tupperware into the center of his desk blotter.

"I...uh...Garcia," Hotch murmured, raising a dark eyebrow at her, "You realize that the last time I had snack time was kindergarten, right?"

Pursing her lips as she dropped her lime green tipped fingernails to rest on her bright orange flowing skirt, she simply raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, surrendering to that patented look that only she could use as he peeled back the airtight lid. He knew that look well. He'd seen it every day for six years. It was that look that said, "I don't care how big you think you are. We both know who runs this joint," and it could freeze him at twenty paces.

Looking down at the contents of the container, his heart warmed and he smiled involuntarily.

Snickerdoodles.

Schooling his face back into its familiar mask of neutrality, he glanced up at her. "Who blabbed?" he asked with a focused look on her serene face.

"A little birdie," she shrugged nonchalantly, swaying slightly from side to side. "EAT," she urged, pointing at the container. "All of it."

Picking up one of the aromatic cookies, he sniffed it appreciatively. Sprinkled with just the right amount of brown sugar, it looked delicious. "So, my son has been sharing my weaknesses with his Aunt Penelope again, huh?"

"G-Man, Jr., is a fount of endless useful knowledge when it comes to you, Boss Man," she chuckled, plopping herself on the empty corner of his desk with easy familiarity that came from years of shared friendship. Swinging her legs freely as she watched him slowly chew his second cookie, she grinned. "I even know where the Playboys are stashed," she mock whispered, her eyes twinkling as she reached for one of the cookies.

"You do not!" Hotch choked, his cheeks flushing a brilliant crimson as a cookie crumb escaped from his lips.

"I don't," she agreed with a giggle. "But, now I know you have them," she said, pointing at him with a 'Gotcha!' blanketing her face.

"We have got to find you a husband to torture on a daily basis," Hotch grumbled, brushing absently at the small crumbs dropping to his blotter. "Maybe venting your spleen on him would save me these embarrassing moments."

"Nah, who needs one of those when I've got you, Boss Man?" Penelope chuckled, sliding his coffee toward him when he coughed again. Offering him a soft look as he polished off the last cookie, she asked, sweetly, "Now, don't you feel better?"

Dropping his head back against his leather chair, Hotch nodded, instantly struck with how natural these stolen moments felt with her. Garcia was the anti-Haley. Where his ex-wife never did anything without an ulterior motive, Penelope's natural generosity was always unexpected, but never shocking. Overcome with the need to touch her, if only for a moment, he gently grabbed her small hand. "Thank you, Penelope."

And heart quickening at the unexpected contact, his strong fingers surprisingly warm against hers, Penelope glowed. "Think nothing of it, my little Snickerdoodle."

And watching her graceful exit from his office, Hotch winced, his eyebrows drawing tightly together.

That nickname was gonna stick. He just knew it.

_**finis**_


End file.
